"So, to sum up," I said, unbelieving, "you automatically renewed my contract for three years at the end of May."
"Yes, sir."
"Without my knowledge or consent."
"We assume consent, sir."
"You're wrong to." I clicked over to another page on my browser, shifting the phone to free my mouse hand. "I'm looking at a CRTC ruling from 2003 that says you're required to notify me before renewing my contract, and then again afterward."
"But you were notified, sir. It's on your bill."
"I get four bills from you per month. I have them here. No mention of an involuntary contract renewal."
"It would be on your April 2011 bill for...." she pauses, searching for the reference, and then gives me the account number for a telephone at one of our facilities. "You go to page three, about halfway down the page, and there's a line of text..."
She's right. In non-bolded type, a warning that my contract for four services - two telephones, two internet connections for two facilities - will be automatically renewed for a three year term unless I opt out, in writing, before May 25.
"One of these facilities will no longer exist after September 1," I say, but I already know her response.
"You can cancel, Mr. Cooper, but there's a cancellation fee for the 34 months that you have remaining."
A cancellation fee, for four services, that would amount to over five thousand dollars.
"Do you think I'm wrong to say that I've been tricked into this contract?" I ask. I'm blunt.
"Uh...." that's not on the script, sir, and I get off work in fifteen minutes.....
Perhaps in an attempt to smooth the waters a bit, she follows with:
"But, Mr. Cooper, you own a gym. You know how these contracts work...." she smiles down the line. Nudge-nudge, wink-wink, inferring that we're all in the screwing-people business...and what's a little on the side, between friends?
"Actually, we don't have contracts. People sign a sheet of paper that says I'm not responsible if they hurt themselves, and that they promise to be nice to everyone. That's it. So - no, I don't understand."
She lobs one, slow and low: "But why?"
Good question. Maybe it's because I want to be able to sleep at night. Maybe: because if you don't want to be here, then it's in no one's best interest to have you around. Or maybe I just don't want a client who's as loud as I am to ever get angry. Loud people just get louder when they're angry....
Update: three of four accounts have been cancelled. The answer, as usual is a good night's sleep, a day of contemplation, a 20-minute AMRAP, and Dale Carnegie.
Posted by: Chris Cooper | 08/10/2011 at 04:40 PM